Red, Green, and Other Niceties
by Zighana
Summary: A collection of one-shots regarding the interactions between Lars and his ex-best friend Ronaldo. Slash!
1. Chapter 1

Red and Green M&amp;Ms

_Lars thinks they are like red and green M&amp;Ms: two completely different things that have no purpose being eaten together. Ronaldo thinks otherwise. (Ronaldo/Lars if you squint)_

There are a few things Ronaldo knows about Lars.

One: his favorite color is red.

Two: he loves candy.

Three: His favorite candy is M&amp;Ms. The red ones.

He learns these facts when Lars used to come over his house every Saturday afternoon to watch cartoons and pig out on junk food. Lars, with his long, wavy red hair and ripped up jeans, would bring a giant bag of M&amp;Ms. Like clockwork, he would pour them into a glass bowl and pick out the red ones. It was puzzling to Ronaldo; why would he go through all that trouble for one color?

When he asked Lars about it, he simply replied, "Because the red ones taste better," then he'd cram one into his mouth.

He wanted to argue that they all taste the same, but he lets Lars enjoy his snack while he turned on another indie horror flick.

The more Lars came over, the more he noticed how Lars would always gravitate to the color red. Red M&amp;Ms, red guitars, red sneakers, red candy, red soda, red chips, red sleeping bag, even his clothes were variants of red. It's his favorite color it seems.

Figures Lars would like red: Red is a power color, a color that is meant for aggression, anger, and fire. Lars is always an angry kid, always ready to fight, always armed with a barbed retort or a threat that may or not be carried out. He's like fire: full of warmth, but destructive and unpredictable. One bad move and many would suffer.

But Ronaldo accepts his temper and rage; he's still a good person. He would always calm him down with kind words and hugs. He's the cool to his hot, the yang to his yin. They balance each other out.

But when Lars stopped coming over and tried to fit in, their balance wavered. Ronaldo is furious that Lars would stoop so low to cater to those jerks; they were morons and both of them knew it. Their argument to end all arguments crushed Ronaldo and it was that moment that they stopped being friends.

He was hurt, but he figured it was for the best. He had his movies and the weird events that happened on Beach City while Lars had, well, a donut shop and a sweet girl named Sadie that Ronaldo adores unconditionally. And Steven, though Steven is far from judgmental and ridiculously accepting of everyone.

When Lars came over, all of those horrid memories came flooding back. It also didn't help that his home despised Lars to the point of nearly killing them all to get to that red-headed creep. But when that gem revealed their history, Ronaldo was ready to forgive.

He understands what Lars was going through; it's not easy to find yourself when your best friend inadvertently humiliates you and is a total weirdo. Seeing Lars ready to break down in tears from the humiliation is enough to grab the boy by the shoulders and hug him.

"I think these two need some time alone," Sadie announces, walking with Steven outside and closing the door behind them.

The two boys stand across from each other, both unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry," Ronaldo starts.

"I'm sorry too," Lars replies.

"I don't know if we should pick up where we left off or…"

"We were never meant to be friends in the first place."

He looks over at Lars. He sits with his head buried between his knees.

"We are like red and green M&amp;Ms, two colors that were never meant to be eaten together,"

Ronaldo snorts.

"Take down the melodramatics a notch, will ya?"

Lars looks up with a glare.

"What'd you say?"

"You're comparing our friendship to the colors of M&amp;Ms, Lars. It doesn't matter what color they are, they're still the same inside." He sits down beside him.

"Didn't you remember when we took that art class? When Mr. Rice taught us about complementary colors?"

"No."

"Red and green are complimentary colors. You're the red to my green, Lars. We complement each other." Ronaldo laughs, draping his arm around Lars.

"But green is such an _ugly_ color…" Lars crinkles his nose.

"…And red is an _aggressive_ color. Green is the color of earth, of creativity and calmness. It soothes the aggressive nature of red." Ronaldo argues.

Lars thinks back to their childhood, when Ronaldo would always keep his temper in check with hugs and soothing words. He was always so calm, cheerful, and mellow. He quieted his temper with his chill demeanor, and accepted him despite his flaws.

The irony of it all.

He laughs with Ronaldo, laughs until tears stream down his face.

"Red and green, who woulda' thought?" he looks to the curly blonde, whose eyes seem to glow in the moonlight.

"I guess we were made for each other."

"Perhaps." Ronaldo answers. He rises up and walks down the hall.

"Where ya goin'?"

"To grab the sleeping bags. I know you love the red one."

Lars smiles in the darkness.


	2. Dance (Don't Hold the Wall)

Dance

(Don't Hold the Wall)

Lars doesn't know why he even came to this party.

Sweaty bodies, loud music, terribly sugary punch; it's the stuff of social pariahs' nightmares. Lars stands against the wall, observing everyone dancing with remote disgust. He wants to dance, truly he does, but he can't. His feet are too clumsy, his movements jerky and awkward, and he can't match the rhythm to save his life. He'd much rather cling to the wall and stuff his face than dance and be the laughing stock of the party.

Beach City has decided to throw a bash in celebration of the defeat of Peridot; the Crystal Gems were celebrated accordingly but they left the festivities before it could even start. Steven is dancing with Connie, earning cheers from the cool kids. Sadie is flirting with Sour Cream as he tries to rave to contemporary pop music (which is amusing, may he add), and the adults are busy reprimanding any teen or child that decides to dance inappropriately. Laughter, music, and food fill Lars's ears, beckoning him to join in, but his feet are glued to the ground.

He placates his shyness by drinking more of the punch, letting the sugar high dull his senses. Three glasses in, he contemplates leaving. Six glasses in, he wonders why he even showed up. Nine glasses in, the sugar makes him sick and he nearly staggers. Twelve glasses in, the punch is gone and he's drowning himself in bottles of water to combat his sugar sickness. Parents are glaring at him, Sadie is snickering, and Steven is looking at him with worry-filled eyes.

He's embarrassed.

He takes a seat, taking care to blend in with his surroundings to hide his shame. With such luck, he's ignored and he can finally brood in peace. Until, he sees a body walk towards him.

He squints and sees none other than Ronaldo, and, which he'll only admit to himself, he cleaned up quite nicely for the party.

Dressed in a silk red dress shirt, black slacks and comfortable loafers, he makes it look pretty cool. His violet shades and gold chain give it that added touch.

"Lars?" Ronaldo asks, making Lars frown.

"What?" He replies.

"Why are you sitting there? It's a slamming party and you're not dancing!"

"Because I don't want to dance, Ronaldo! Mind your own business!"

"Typical Lars, always got to be the party pooper," Ronaldo chuckles, sitting down next to him.

"Can you go bug someone else?"

"Nope. You're much too amusing."

Lars swears under his breath, but otherwise stays put. They sit together in silence for what feels like minutes, until a new song played.

It starts off slow with a man crooning, then some Egyptian themed instrumental and finally, the beat.

_Dance. Don't hold the wall._

_Dance. Don't hold the wall._

"C'mon," Lars looks up. Ronaldo stands over him, his hand stretched to him.

"Let's dance."

Before he could reject him, Ronaldo grabs his hand and pulls Lars to him. Their bodies are so close it's like they've molded together; Lars can smell his cologne, feel his silk shirt, and taste his sweat. And strangely, he's not at all bothered by it.

"I-I don't know how to dance." Lars confesses.

"Just follow my lead."

_Take you to the light, _

_It's dark in the back,_

_You started movin' and put an arch in your back._

Follow his lead he did; he's astounded at how well they move together. Ronaldo moves fluidly around the dance floor like he owned it, taking Lars along for the ride. Their moves are slow, coordinated, and sensual, complimenting the song perfectly.

_Closer to me, closer to me_

_Sippin' your drink you're getting closer to me_

"Not bad," Ronaldo hums in the crook of his neck. Their eyes lock, and Lars for the first time sees a completely different side of Ronaldo. This one is confident, collected, and even seductive. He parts from his dance partner, the only thing connecting them are their interlocked hands.

_And now you won't even let me go._

_So baby hold on._

Ronaldo moves around him slowly, his eyes paralyzing him to the floor.

"_Well, I'm the best ever_," He mouths the lyrics to him.

"_But_ _you're so far, I had to come get ya_."

Lars suddenly glides to Ronaldo, their bodies molding together once more. Their noses touch, their breaths gracing each other's lips.

_Come on and dance,_

_Come on baby, dance with me_

"Having fun?" He asks. Lars isn't sure what the right answer is.

_Please don't hold the wall_

_Please don't hold the wall tonight._

Ronaldo moves faster, matching the tempo's increasing pace. Lars tries to keep up, but is failing terribly. Instead he wraps his arms around his shoulders and moves his hips to the beat. The music is getting to him, filling him with a strange feeling of control and sexuality. He locks his eyes to Ronaldo's, their lips so close one millimeter and they'd touch. He silently dares Ronaldo to make the move as they dance together, their once seductive dance growing more and more aggressive as the song reaches its climax. The dance floor is empty; their audience hugs the walls as they watch them.

"_Where you runnin' to?_" Lars whispers against Ronaldo's lips. He's teasing him.

Ronaldo laughs. Then, their lips connect.

Fireworks explode in Lars's brain; desire making the warmth in his belly skyrocket.

He moans in the kiss, running his fingers through his curly locks.

They pull away minutes after, their panting permeating the dance floor. The song has long since finished, and their high had worn off.

The two boys look at each other in shock, both unsure of how to react.

"Dude, what you guys did there, was pretty intense. Cool." Buck interjects, making the audience erupt in cheers. Claps and shouts of praise over the dancing leaves Lars embarrassed and Ronaldo prideful.

The partygoers left for home hours later; only the two boys remaining. Ronaldo drives Lars home, the tension so thick one could cut it with a knife.

"Nothing happened," Lars snarls out.

"If anyone asks, it's the punch. I drank too much and I was out of my mind."

Ronaldo rolls his eyes, but does nothing. They pull up to Lars house, the glowing lights telling the teen his parents are up. He unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the car door, but stops himself. He grabs Ronaldo and pulls him in for another kiss, this time with more passion. They pull away, and Lars says,

"I had a good time tonight. I should dance with you more often."

He then runs to his house and closes the door, leaving a satisfied Ronaldo driving down the street, humming his favorite song.

Fin

**AN: All the credit for the song goes to Justin Timberlake's "Don't Hold The Wall". Go check it out! **

Hold


End file.
